Forgotten Dreams
Lost Hope: Forgotten Dreams. By Silver_Griffin This story and characters are copyright to myself. Any similarities are simply accidental. Do not post this story without my permission. I am aware of some of the errors, and I would like the help of another to help with proof-reading. If you are under 18, you should not be reading this or be on this site. With that said, enjoy. I'm sorry if the font appears to be of a larger size then you normally read, but it just worked out like that.
By the time I had come to, I had no idea of my present location, or of how I had taken to that place. The time before then was like a nightmare, something that I wanted to forget, to change yet it was lost. I still had my freedom, but the price paid was not worth it. At this moment, I would have given up anything, anything, to go back; to change what I had done, but it was far to late for me to do anything of the sort. I had lost my innocence, my pride, and my hope. What I had left, were the clothes on my back, a small dagger, and a debt of blood too big to be repaid. Several days ago I had come across a small town whose name means nothing now, except bad memories. This town had no law, merely bandits, thieves, and perhaps a swordsman or two. I had almost no clothes, in exception for my ragged pants and, what could be, called the remnants of a shirt, when I wandered in to that god-awful place. It took me hours of hiding, to avoid being sent to the earth before my time, before I managed to find the tavern that I had been searching for. I went in, with nothing more then a piece of copper or two, and promise of hard work. They accepted me, and claimed I was foolish to willingly come to a town like this. When I told them it was better then a life not lived, in a bag in the ground. They nodded, but barely. I found out they were right, the town was more of a hell hole then I had first come to suspect, but I was earning a bed, clothes, and some food to eat, so I didn't bother to complain. I had no way of knowing the harrows that were bestowed as, a heavy reminder that those that lie, are no more then the trash they make. This town's horrors were coming to a close. No, that's not the way to say it. This town was coming to an end; while my own horrors where coming, not new horrors one's that I had come here to run from. As long as I remember, I had been cursed, forcing me to live my life in the gutter, away from the life I could have had, the life I wanted. A life where hoping you died in your sleep was positive, but I had more courage then to take my own life. Irony can be a cruel beast at times, yet not as much of a beast that I became, or will continue to be. The cursed had been played out in others, showing that it happened once every generation to remind the world what will happen shall it fall into it's own greed. Yet every time there was one born like me, they were lucky. They were killed in their sleep, or went to sleep, and simply didn't wake up. They had it peaceful, while my life had become a hell that I couldn't, I wouldn't leave. This was a hell that showed me that perhaps I should exist, as not to let others fall prey to my horrors, and the horrors before me. When they came, were when I showed why I had nothing but torn clothing, and haunted eyes. They were bandits like the rest of them, low life thugs who had managed to find a woman. They had beat her, made her do things that no woman should be forced to do. Yet it seemed karma was against them this time. In fact, karma had a score to settle with the town itself. When the rage came, no one knew what to expect, no one had even expected anything like that to even happen. The first one went down in a spray of blood, something that caught on my clothes, and in my mouth. The taste had not diminished me, nor had it stopped me. The taste seemed to increase my furry, and my horrors. I couldn't stop myself, it was as though I was watching through the eyes of a body that looked just like me, but was something much worse. The horrors seemed to play in my head, driving me down into the darkness of my own fury. I knew not of how I could stop this, how to make my body obey my mind. Yet an answer seemed to dwell from my very essence. Because they deserve it, because they should suffer like you have suffered. No. I couldn't let others go through the pain that has dwelled in my being, driving me into darkness when in became too much. Yet as much as I longed for the feel of a blade through my spine, it never came. I was a beast, a beast that couldn't, I wouldn't, be stopped, and no matter how hard they tried. The night seemed to know of my being, of my sense of being lost, helpless to a body that was mine, slave to thoughts I could not control. If hell existed, then this was certainly my hell. I was cursed for something I couldn't stop. A body I couldn't control, and by voices that I, no matter how much will I had, could not drown plagued me. No one would bring me the one thing that I wished I could have, the one thing I would have given anything for. Death. Though I knew of the men's screams as my claws tore into their bodies, I could not hear them, as hard as I may try. All I ever knew was silence, no one talked to me, and no one knew me. I barely knew myself, for I dare not make friends. For when the pressure builds and becomes too much, they would not be spared. Women and men, it truly didn't matter, my body acted by it's own whim. The forest made no noise, not wanting the demon that was my lost control to bring itself to their doorstep. The earth didn't want me, the people didn't want me, and I didn't want me. Yet as hard as they may try, not one was able to bring me death. Why? So here I sat, amidst the blood, the tears, and the lost dreams. That's all that my life was to me, dreams lost to the whim of fate. My hopes were nothing more then a rag doll in the jaws of a monster. I would pray day and night should it bring me death, I would welcome death with every fiber of my being. Yet for every wish I made, for every pray I uttered they went unanswered. Perhaps this was the why it was meant to be, but why? Why should I be the one to burden the Sin of this world, why? Perhaps I would find out one day, but I would need to wash. It would do me no good to walk around covered in blood as I was now. I would leave the bodies the way they were, I had desecrated them enough as it is. I had to leave; no doubt someone had survived, to run to the nearest enforcers. They would tell them how some random person had killed a small town, had ripped them apart. That someone was probably already at the enforcers, telling him or her everything they saw, someone always did. In the distance I could already see the torchlight, so I ran. If they found me, they would kill me, or at least try. I made that mistake the first time. I wanted them to catch me, to end my pain; yet when the first blade was shown, I couldn't hold back. Even to this day I can still here them scream, and beg for mercy. I can still see their eyes, how they were so blank, dead long before their hearts stopped. I wouldn't do that again. I would find another town, perhaps one with less people inside of it. One day I will find why this happens to me, but that day wasn't this day, nor will it be soon. It would be weeks before I found somewhere that I would be able to stay at. I had best start running, it appears they have dogs. When it began to rain was when I was almost able to breathe easier, without worries of being chased. Yet I somehow knew better then to think they would stop their pursuit. A full town was massacred, so I had severe doubts that they would call of the chase because of rain. Even if their dogs lost my sent, I was still in danger. I knew they probably had more then one way to hunt someone like me down. So it was best to keep running, even though my legs were burning, and my heart was racing. My body was fighting with every ounce it could to stop me from running, but I couldn't stop, not if I were to escape. It seemed for hours that I was running, running from those who chased me. Though one part of my body kept telling me that it wasn't the men I was running from, it was my own past. The very past that made me run. I knew I would have to face it sometime, but that was not today. When I stopped, I felt like my body was going to die of exhaustion, my limbs were shaking, and my breathe was ragged. I had to rest. I heard no men, and saw no torches, so I had a guess that they had given up after the first mile. I had nothing left so I huddled together under a large Cyprus tree, and felt my consciousness slipping form me. I slept. By the time I awoke, the rain had stopped. The ground was soggy, and it was quite horrid to step on. I would definitely have to find shoes, but that wasn't as important as me being able to find food and a place to stay. I know it would take me a while, as was my clothes, as torn and ragged as they were, were completely covered in blood. I don't even know how I was able to sleep in the damned things, but I guess it doesn't matter as much anymore. I could get new clothes, and a new life. Yet as much as I was asked a certain question, I was unable to remember. The question was always the same. What's you name? Not once have I been able to answer, nor will I be able to. For as long as I could remember, I was running from a past that I couldn't remember. Sometimes I dreamt about them, other times they haunted my days, makes the nights even worse. All I have ever known was sadness and grief. Not once have I ever been welcomed with open arms. Who could even truly welcome a person who doesn't even know his or her own past? Who could ever come to know me? The answer was always in my face, burning into my skull with its ever-burning presence. No one. It was a fact that I could no longer shed. I was alone; I have lost my dreams and my hopes. The only things left for me were pain, hate, and blood. If that was my life, then hell was my life. Of course I have tried to track down my family, to find my name, yet it could not be done. They asked for my parents names, what they looked like, and where they lived. I had no way of answering these questions. When I told then that, they sent me away and yelled for people like me to not play jokes, as if there were others that were truly like me. If there were, then this world was in for more horror then it had ever known. The blue moon was in three months, and I wanted to get rid of this curse, one way or another, before then. If I didn't, then may the gods have pity on whomever I meet? The other thing that I knew I would have to do would be to create a new name for myself, and a new past. Perhaps I should go to a larger town, since it would be a lot better. There would have to be at least one person here that would be able to quench my thirst for death. Yet something inside knew different, like nothing could kill me, except the truth to my curse. Even if I died trying to find out why, I knew I would continue to look for the answers. I would look for them with all my ability, even if they killed me. Hell, I was already dead, so it didn't matter. At best guess I would have to say that I had been looking for some new town for almost three weeks, and for each day, each hour, that I failed to do so, I could feel panic beginning to grip me. For each time I felt panic grip me, I just ran, ran for a new home, and ran to forget my past. Yet as the panic left, I was left with nothing body a worn body, and a horrid past. Perhaps I was not meant to outrun my past, but to embrace it. Perhaps The best thing for me to do was to go back to the beginning, where I first awoke, but that meant facing my demons, and I didn't think my mind would survive that; At least, not alone. I had no choice of what to do, but that would mean going through things that I had been trying to forget my entire life. These were things that I almost couldn't stand anymore, things that meant a world of pain to me. I knew I could not make this trip alone, but whom would I be able to talk to? Who would I be able to trust, be able to stay near during the New moon? I didn't know anyone that I could trust. No, wait, that was a lie. I did know one person that I could trust, but would this person trust me? I had no choice. When the time came for me to leave, I had to do so fast; I had managed to find a very small town, what happened there was something I wanted to forgot, to dismiss. I knew that the town would stay in my mind, just like everything else did. Every person I killed, every person I hurt, and I could remember it all. I didn't know what it had to be me who was like this, but I knew that there were others. I couldn't be alone in this, as much as I wish there was, I couldn't be alone. I didn't know what day it was, all I knew was that the full moon was not for a few months, so I had time to dig up that which I despised, and find help. If I didn't this thing, this parasite, this curse was going to stay with me until I die. That was not something I was going to stand for. Yet to do this I would have to acquire a name for myself, or, at least, find my old name, the name that I left behind so long ago to cut loose all ties that I had. It looked like I would have to reconnect some of these ties, and assume the life that I left to find out how to stop this thing. Yet I didn't know where I would start, where I would go, or to whom I would be able to go. No one would be able to shelter someone like me from myself. Yet I would have to try. I only could remember one person that would help me. I didn't remember her name, but I vaguely remembered where she lived. I just didn't want to have to go back there but I would if I had to. It would take me many days to wander towards this city. I didn't go fast, not wanting to be near the city when the full moon shone upon this world; yet I didn't want to be alone, since the last time I was alone, I beat myself to near death. I would have to find someone, or I might as well throw myself off a bridge. The nights almost seemed unbearable, afraid that the full moon would arise from the tops of the trees, before I could reach someone, only to see a waning moon. This made me relax each night, knowing that the next full moon wasn't for a long time, but that didn't stop the fear from returning the next night. As closer I drew, the more concerned for the city I became, I even caught myself trying to turn back. That was suicide...and that was not something I wanted. The nights plagued me as a thousand bites of the fiddle back, the terror crying in my mind as the wolf howls into the night. I drew fearful of the oncoming days that I would have to face the next possession of this thing in a few weeks. I started to run again. Yet this running was for a purpose, I was not running to die, to hide, or to fight; I was running to fight, to live. I ran towards each night now, welcoming the fear with my mind open, trying desperately to reach a house by midnight in three days; else all my work by for nothing, and this plague unleashed upon others. I was running to death, with arms wide open. I don't know exactly how long I ran, but the world turned into a blur of shadow and night, the two warping and intertwining. The surrealistic background falling behind me, leaving me alone, cold, and terrified of what I might find, of what I might become. The shadows quivered under my feet, the night trailing in my wake, consuming all that dared cross my path. The oncoming plains seemed to quiver with fright of the oncoming dread, preparing to fall before its ruthlessness. I ran until I could not breathe, my lungs screaming for air. I could not keep with demand of oxygen. I fell, into darkness, into light, into eternity. I awoke with nothing more then pain burning it's way deep into my skull. It seemed as though a searing blade was splitting my skull, and scorching my very brain. I knew all that had transgressed in the past view hours, but I was barely able to hold onto it now. It just seemed as though I would loose the image, it seeping through my hands as liquid does an open palm. I needed somewhere to stay, somewhere to sleep peacefully. My mind was still reeling with surreal hallucinations of night and day intertwining. I could only stumble as my mind could barely process what was happening now, much less the even that had unfolded. The ground seemed like it shook with every step, my body trembling with cold. It was wet, and I felt like I was getting sick. That was not good. I needed to stay healthy, so it would stay deep within me, and not surface a full month or two ahead of time. I needed something for the pain that was in my head. I also knew it would take me much longer before I reached another settlement far away from the newly slaughtered town. It would most likely take me a good few hours to get there... wherever there was. There... that place that my mind dreaded was a town some miles north of here. Not only was this town where this horror started, it was where I first was found wandering alone. I knew that going back there meant that I would have to face more then one demon from my past. Hell, I would have to face the entire hand basket. ~End of Prologue~